


to be devoured.

by crowaii



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: ANGSTY ANGST ANGST, F/F, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, artistic lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowaii/pseuds/crowaii
Summary: i, like the stars, know what it meansto be devoured from the inside out. i know what it means to be on fire ¬ emit any light.-----------Angela has never seen her look so afraid.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: "Things you said when you were scared" on my tumblr. Title and summary quote from [_A short list of stars that died this year_](https://therisingphoenixreview.com/2016/08/27/a-short-list-of-stars-that-died-this-year-by-eliel-vera/) By Eliel Vera

“I’d rather die.” 

Angela flinches, scalpel clattering to the floor. She automatically reaches to pick it, checking the blade for nicks. Stalling. 

 

“You don’t mean that,” she says once she feels like the air hasn’t been sucked out of the room. In the mirror on the wall she catches sight of Amelie’s face, shadowed and drawn. Exhaustion only ever serves to make her more striking.

 

“Yes I do.” Her shoulders are rigid, hands braced against the counter beside her; defensive. Angela wonders how many times she’s had this same conversation with Gerard. “I mean every–every _fucking_  word of it Angela. I would rather die then let Talon use me against Gerard, against–”

_you._

 

Amelie twists sharply, running a hand jerkily through her hair as her mouth twists into something unpleasant. She doesn’t finish her sentence, and Angela pretends not to know what she would have said. 

It’s an old waltz, and they both know their steps.

 

* * *

 

They aren’t in love, but they could be and they both know it. They could be, if Amelie wasn’t married or if they both didn’t care for Gerard too much to go behind his back. But she is and they do, so neither of them will ever say anything about it. 

Gerard is good man, and Amelie loves him, even if she isn’t in love with him. Angela knows this. But she also knows that Amelie watches her; at meetings, at galas, in the privacy of her medical labs. So much so that her gaze is a comfortable, steadying thing. A rosary in Angela’s pocket.

Still, they could be, but they aren’t in love. At least not yet.

 

* * *

 

“Promise me, if Talon gets a hold of me, you won’t let me near Gerard.”

Amelie’s eyes are fever bright and wide with panic. In the dim light of the corridor the whites of them seem to glow. They’re beautiful, Angela thinks for a moment, before the civilian part of her brain shuts off and she’s cataloging the way Amelie’s pulse is fluttering in her throat and she is breathing so, so fast. 

 

“Amelie, you need to sit down,” Angela soothes, voice even with years of practice. Still, Amelie doesn’t release the iron grip she has on Angela’s wrist, doesn’t move from where she’s cornered her between a wall and a pillar. 

 

“Promise me.” 

Amelie is kind, and Angela trusts her implicitly, but in this moment she’s reminded of how strong the other woman is, how she has several inches on Angela which have given her the ability to trap her so easily. 

 

“Angela.”

In a different life, Amelie could be terrifying, she thinks.

 

“Promise me, that if something happens you’ll–you’ll lock me up. You’ll hide me somewhere and you won’t let me out, you won’t let Gerard or anyone see me. Promise me you’ll lock me up and throw away the key and you won’t ever come near me.”

 

 _What_ , Angela wonders, _has happened to make her so_ _terrified_. 

 

There are tear tracks smudging her face, dull shimmers caught in the blue cast of moonlight on Amelie’s skin.

With a shudder, Amelie collapses forward, a marionette with her strings cut, and drags Angela down with her. Unthinking, Angela pulls her closer as Amelie half falls, half crawls into her lap, damp cheeks pressed to the crook of Angela’s neck.

 

“ _I would die before I would hurt you.”_

 She feels more than hears Amelie mouth the words against her pulse. Automatically, her free hand comes up to rest against Amelie’s head, pressing her closer.

 

“Promise me,” Amelie urges, voice wet as she curls around her like a lifeline. 

Angela buries her fingers in her hair even as her throat closes up around the word _okay_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Short, but I really liked how this came out. Feel free to drop me prompts and find a lot of my short drabbles/odds and ends at my [tumblr](http://crowaii-writes.tumblr.com/).


End file.
